


good old-fashioned lover boy

by Origamidragons



Category: One Piece
Genre: Bisexuality, Dealing with issues, Gen, Headcanon, Internalized Homophobia, Trauma, this is just all my queer sh headcanons in a fic im ngl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:48:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26536834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Origamidragons/pseuds/Origamidragons
Summary: Luffy and Usopp are joking around, talking about the flower-seller boy on the last island Usopp had struck up a friendship with, and there’s a giggle and a teasing question aboutlove, and on autopilot Sanji rolls his eyes a little without looking up from the cake he’s decorating and says, “Boys don’t like boys, Luffy.”Suddenly, the room is very quiet, and everyone is looking at him, and Sanji is just as suddenly eight years old and wants tohide.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 214





	good old-fashioned lover boy

**Author's Note:**

> TW for internalized homophobia/biphobia and a (non-graphic) panic attack

In his defense, Sanji doesn’t actually mean to say it.

The thing is, it’s something he tells _himself_ on a regular basis _,_ the words running through his mind in pure self-defensive panicky habit. It used to be a weekly or biweekly event, but since coming onboard the ship, it’s become more like daily. So maybe it’s not surprising that the words that are always on his mind eventually slip out of his lips.

He doesn’t even remember the exact words that prompt it. He’s distracted, putting the finishing touches on the frosting for dessert as the rest of the crew lounge around the galley in playful post-supper sleepiness.

Luffy and Usopp are joking around, talking about the flower-seller boy on the last island Usopp had struck up a friendship with, and there’s a giggle and a teasing question about _love_ , and on autopilot Sanji rolls his eyes a little without looking up from the cake he’s decorating and says, “Boys don’t like boys, Luffy.”

Suddenly, the room is very quiet, and everyone is looking at him, and Sanji is just as suddenly eight years old and wants to _hide_.

“Oi, cook,” Zoro says, voice sharp and cutting through the sudden silence. “What was that?”

And he really doesn’t want to defend the words, and he _really_ doesn’t want to explain them, s _o_ he doesn’t. He scowls back and says, “Nothing.”

Zoro stares him down for a moment, and most of the time Sanji would glare right back at him and snap out something caustic and maybe try to kick his head in, but-

He looks away, teeth gritted and face too hot.

“Sanji- _kun_ ,” Nami says, her voice too sweet to not be a trap, and it’s almost cruel because she knows there’s no way he’s not going to fall for it, because it’s _Nami_.

“Yes, Nami-san?” he says, because he can’t not. The frosting in the bowl in his hands is already fluffed to perfection but he keeps mindlessly whisking it anyways, because he needs something to look at that isn’t Zoro’s disapproving glare or Nami’s poison-trap smile.

“You know I like girls, don’t you?” she asks, even though the answer is obvious- it’s not like she’s ever been all that discreet about her relationships.

“Of course.”

He’s still not looking at her, but he can practically see her tip her head to one side. “And do you think there’s something wrong with me because of that?”

“I- of _course_ not!” he says, jerking around to look at her, honestly appalled at the very concept. Nami’s _perfect_ , of _course_ there’s nothing wrong with her, not like there is with- “Of course not,” he says again, rather than let that thought reach its conclusion. “That’s- different-”

“What about Zoro?” Nami presses, jerking a thumb over at Zoro, who glances over at her for a moment before settling his glare back on Sanji. “Do you think there’s something wrong with him?”

“That’s not- what I _meant_ , I just-” He’s stuttering, he knows he is, because he can’t find the words, because the logic that makes perfect sense in his head is just refusing to leave his mouth, leaving him standing there, stupid and stammering. He _doesn’t_ want to have this conversation, doesn’t want to _be_ here, trapped between Nami’s merciless judgement and something he doesn’t ever want to drag into the light to examine.

“Then what _did_ you mean?” Nami asks, as relentless as ever, and-

-and Sanji slams the bowl down on the counter so hard it almost shatters and all but bolts out of the galley because he _can’t can’t can’t-_

She’s kind enough, at least, to let him go in silence.

* * *

It’s Usopp, of all people, who comes and finds him in the crow’s nest.

Sanji’s already five cigarettes deep into a pack, lighting each fresh one off the stub of the last with unsteady hands, sucking on them like if he can just get enough smoke inside his head it’ll block out the jumble of tangled thoughts and muffle the memory of Nami’s cutting words. The room stinks of nicotine. Usopp makes a face and goes around to open the windows, letting the nighttime breeze start to clear away the smoky air.

Once that’s done, Usopp sits down against the wall just opposite him, giving him a thoughtful look. Sanji doesn’t meet his eyes, and fishes another cigarette out of the pack.

“You never met Kaya, right?” Usopp says at length, sounding kind of distant, nostalgic, almost.

Sanji blinks, glancing up from the floor. “Who?”

“It would’ve been before you joined the crew,” Usopp says, hands dangling between his knees, gaze focused on the stars visible through the open window. “She was a girl who lived in my hometown. Syrup Village. She was sick, and couldn’t leave her house, so I used to go and tell her stories every day.” He smiles, big and genuine, and adds, “I really loved her. Still do. Sometimes I’d make up stories about the future, about us setting sail and having adventures together once she got well, and we’d be married in some of them.”

Sanji doesn’t know where he’s going with this, but unlike with a lot of Usopp’s stories, this one has the weight of honesty behind it, and so he listens.

“And then Zoro and Nami and Luffy showed up, and helped me save my town and Kaya, and I joined their crew. And, um, Luffy told me we were already friends, and he smiled at me, and, uh, I realized I had a huge crush on him, too.”

Sanji bites clean through his cigarette and has to spend a minute or so spitting out loose tobacco before he can say, very eloquently, “You- _huh?_ ”

Usopp laughs a little, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, stupid, right? I mean, Luffy’s not, you know, he doesn’t do the whole, dating, romance thing, so obviously, uh, nothing ever came of it, which I was kind of sad about for a while. But, I mean, I got over it, cause he’s my best friend, y’know?”

Sanji’s still staring. Usopp waves a hand. “I just wanted to say, like- it’s okay, you know? Liking both boys and girls. That’s normal. Even if nothing comes of it. You’re not on your own.”

“Wait,” Sanji says, “Wait. You think I’m- I’m not-” He flounders for a moment. “...I like _women_ ,” he finishes, rather pathetically.

“Yeah, I know,” Usopp says. “Everyone knows. But, like, a week ago I saw you shatter the glass you were holding ‘cause Zoro came in from working out shirtless and really sweaty.”

Oh. Sanji remembers that, now that Usopp mentions it, and as soon as he does he feels his entire face heat up and swiftly buries it in his hands, digging his fingers into his hair. “ _Fuck_ ,” he mutters emphatically.

There’s a pause, and then the sound of footsteps crossing the small room. Usopp sits down next to him. Sanji doesn’t look up. “I guess I don’t get it,” Usopp says. “What’s the problem?”

“There’s no problem,” Sanji says into his hands, and it sounds unconvincing even to him.

Usopp doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t really have to; even without looking up, Sanji can practically feel the skepticism radiating off of him.

Sanji sighs, lifts his head, and focuses on shaking another cigarette out of the pack to replace the one he’d ruined, lighting it as he tries to put his thoughts in order. “It’s… there’s _rules_ ,” he finally says.

There’s other things he could say, he means to say- _maybe it’s okay for Zoro, for Nami, for you, but it’s not that_ easy _; women make sense, aren’t threatening, can be trusted; I’ve already failed at being everything else I was supposed to be_ \- but the words stick in his throat. He’s still struggling to dislodge them when-

“So?” Usopp just says, and shrugs a little. “We’re pirates. Breaking rules is kind of what we do.”

 _…hm_.

Well, that’s a point to think about. Maybe. Sanji takes another drag off of his cigarette and feels something in his chest settle, just a bit, the loosening of a knot that’s been yanked too tight for years and years and years.

“Maybe,” he concedes around a mouthful of smoke, and sees Usopp grin triumphantly out of the corner of his eye.

There’s- a lot, in his head right now, and it’ll probably take some time to work though it all, but. For the moment he can breathe again, and Usopp has a point, so even if he’s not fine, he will be, probably.

“Thanks,” he says, and means it.

And then, after a moment, “But, Luffy? Really?”

Usopp elbows him hard, but he’s laughing between the words when he says, “Shut up!”

And Sanji finds he can laugh about it, too.

**Author's Note:**

> me whenever i write fic about sanji: this bad boy can fit so much fucking trauma in him
> 
> anyways! uh i wrote this a couple months ago in one go and then never posted it cause it cuts a little closer to home than most stuff i write, but on rereading its Good actually so. here you are. 
> 
> when is this set? who knows. i know its only the east blue crew mentioned by name but its definitely sometime after water 7.
> 
> title from the queen song because its the first song on my sanji playlist and it suits him


End file.
